


the last american virgin

by sophthebi



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: 1984
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Other, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, jaz and i are so thirsty for these two softies, omg, ray and trevor are, this is for you jaz haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 19:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20801960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophthebi/pseuds/sophthebi
Summary: You sat on the ground, ignoring them for the most part. Adjusting your shirt and pants, and pulling on your socks that were still wet and tight to get on. You struggled. Got one boot on before seeing something in the corner of your eye.You inhaled sharply.Rays shirt was gone. Sculpted like a Greek god, skin smooth and hairless, like those men in the stupid novella you found in your mother’s draws when you were little. He stretched, muscles contracting with his every movement.And as for Trevor.Every clothing item was gone.





	the last american virgin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burnthevvitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnthevvitch/gifts).

> wellllllll  
this was my first threesome fic, i was literally in the dark writing this in terms of the actual smut but i would love to say a very big thank you to Jaz!!!  
This fic is for her, and our thirst for these two hot ass 80's men!!!  
Love ya long time!

You had many qualms with Margaret reopening Redwood. 

One of them being that the place was sure to be cursed. After the massacre in 70’, it ought to be at least haunted. The other reasons… well, trauma could be a bitch. 

You were as optimistic as they come, but you knew darn well that the fresh air and canoeing could only do so much for your mother’s close friend. Resurrection wasn’t always the best solution. Sometimes things were meant to stay dead. 

“Could you quickly do a rundown of the boys showers. One of those moron counsellors told me there’s a leak. I highly doubt it, I’m certain most of them are drunk on their funny smelling herbs, but … it’s better safe than sorry.”

Margaret must have noticed the brush of terror in your eyes. Identifying it as something else, she smiled proudly, pressing her hands to your cheeks, “It’s past curfew. Lights are out and they should all be resting, cleansed and refreshed for morning prayer. I trust you with this. Here, take my flashlight.”

Running into some naked camp counsellors wasn’t exactly what you were on edge about. But you took on the task regardless, clinging onto to the light. “What would I do without your help?”

You smiled. Put on a brave face and left her cabin with your ineffective flashlight that kept flickering on and off.

Wandering the campgrounds at night, alone, was exactly what terrified you to the core. Not naked people, or showers. The trees, tall and sprawling with hidden dangers. Their twisted weeds and roots erecting from the soil and laying as traps to your feet. The sounds. Everywhere, all around, never possible to pinpoint. A branch cracking. A skittering deeper into the forest. The lake rippling as if a monster swim below. 

And then the phantom of keys. 

No, no. It was just dreams. Just paranoia. 

You passed the girls cabin soon enough. Lights were all out. Hardly any sound. Shocking as it was, you were relieved. Part of you feared they’d be partying, making purple in the cabin as Margaret would put it. 

Not that you could blame them. It could get boring out in the woods. 

Sex and drugs weren’t your forte, having tried neither of those things, but, you had nothing against it either. Your business was your own, and you’d rather not have the dilemma of dobbing in on them. 

Just a little further. 

Metal clicked on the belt of a man. 

Keys…

You walked faster. 

Suddenly hating your imagination a little more than you did during daylight. 

“He slaughtered an entire cabin. Mr Jingles was his name.”

Mr Jingles…

Faster. Faster. The air began to prick at your face, swooped your hair in your eyes, and before long you were flying through the air, crashing to the ground.

“Shit!”

You’d tripped over a root, straight into a puddle of mud. The earthy taste sat on your tongue, stung in your eyes and irritated the skin of your neck and abdomen. Rainwater and dirt seeped into your shirt, into your pants and knee-high socks you hated wearing. “Jesus shit!” 

If Margaret had been in hearing distance, you’re sure you’d have another thing to be terrified about. Not just the haunting of Mr Jingles. 

But by some sheer luck, it was just you, and you had made it to the boys showers. 

They were empty. Eerie. But empty. And … no leak. 

You checked everything. The pipes, the shower heads until you yourself were tempted turn them on and wash away the sweat and dirt. 

“I might as well…”

It took time, but you peeled off the wet clothes. 

Standing in underwear in the middle of a haunted camp wasn’t ideal, but neither was being dirty and sweaty. 

A squeak of the plumbing and the water rushed down your head. Cold at first, kicking you awake then slowly heating up and soothing your muscles. Mouth agape you stared up at the sky, allowing the water to envelope you. 

Keys echoed in your head, but you felt safe. Safe enough to forget your surroundings, only to be reminded by them via music from a radio, and the laughter of two camp counsellors. 

“I just wanna sit under some hot flowing water and drink till morning.” 

“I second that man.”

“Fuck… Fuck…” They weren’t words of god, but what was about happen was further from heaven than a few words of English. You rushed to your clothes, only just beginning to dry, and tried your best to fit your limbs in the right holes. But it was too late by the time a new flashlight found you in the dark.

“Holy shit! Aren’t you that church girl? Margaret’s little Jesus helper?” The man you recognised as Ray laughed, tooth pick in his mouth. He looked over to a taller man … The activities director, who busied himself with turning off the water.

“No! I mean…yes. Yes I am that church girl- but that’s beside the point. What’re you guys doing out here? It’s past curfew, you know I’m going to have to report you to Margaret.”

Trevor, the activities director, smiled, meeting your eyes. “And what about you church girl? What would Margaret say about her little Jesus helper showering in the boys showers, mixing red with blue?”

His smile dropped, and eyes became stern. Ray watched on like a little kid witnessing another kid being disciplined by a teacher, amusement and intrigue churning his features into a nervous smirk. 

You stood frozen, suddenly aware of the fact he was dead serious. 

You gulped, eyes stinging with tears. Margaret would be disappointed. Wouldn’t see you in the same light again. Would think filth of you.

And then his eyes shifted. “Jesus, I’m just fuckin’ with ya!” 

Him and Ray burst out in laughter, knocking fists together and going back to whatever they planned before running into you. Placing their radio in the corner and opening their cans of beer.

“You want?” Ray offered out a can, you rejected of course. Still tense from the “joke”.

“How can you two still be drinking? The children arrive tomorrow. It’ll be a big day-”

“-Jesus kid, you sound like a mini Margaret,” Trevor practically groaned, taking a gulp of his beer, sitting down on an upside-down bucket. Ray giggled like a schoolboy - endearing in a way - and pulled off his blue jacket. 

“And you should probably turn that music down.”

“Why? Is Mr Jingles gonna hear us?” Trevor’s eyes gleamed in humour. They were devious and youthful for a man his age. 

“Dude, don’t joke about that. That shit’s for real,” Ray said, chewing on his tooth pick, a smirk growing on his lips, “but at least we have a virgin to sacrifice if worse comes to worse.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your back to them and making your way out. You didn’t make it far though.

“Hey! I was just joking! I’m sorry.” You looked back at Ray. His big eyes shining with a softness you had never noticed before. He smiled again, but kind and genuine. “We’re just fuckin around.” 

“And you forgot your shoes.” Trevor nudged his foot to your socks and boots on the wet floor, before going back to drinking and smoking from his bong thing. It smelt funny like Margaret had told you, but there was no way you were walking the camp barefoot.

“Thanks.” 

You sat on the ground, ignoring them for the most part. Adjusting your shirt and pants, and pulling on your socks that were still wet and tight to get on. You struggled. Got one boot on before seeing something in the corner of your eye.

You inhaled sharply.

Rays shirt was gone. Sculpted like a Greek god, skin smooth and hairless, like those men in the stupid novella you found in your mother’s draws when you were little. He stretched, muscles contracting with his every movement.

And as for Trevor. 

Every clothing item was gone. 

His toned back and… and behind was all you could see as he stood under a shower head.

Ray smoked some more, dancing to the radio. Tainted love by Soft Cell, relatively old but classic. You preferred the original by Gloria Jones … but that was beside the point.

You don’t know where time went, but you sat on that very spot for as long as god allowed it. Your eyes unsure where to look, and just as unsure on whether to look away and book it, or stay until they acknowledged you and told you to fuck off, thinking you to be a creepy church girl pervert. 

Which you were currently, most definitely being.

The shower turned off.

“Oh ho woah. We have a secret admirer here.” 

You looked at the ground as soon as Trevor turned to face you. You nearly caught a glimpse of his… his.

You panicked, attempting to stand but slipping back to the floor, backside in pain from the fall. 

Ray laughed, high as heaven and watching you closely. You felt Trevor’s stare too. Conflicted on whether it was amused or far from it, you peered up at him. Catching sight of the thing hanging between his thighs…

It was big.

“You like what you see church girl?”

You wanted to say something raunchy and smart like the protagonist in your mother’s novella, but you weren’t witty enough for that. Weren’t enticing enough. 

So, you went for silence, and a loud exhale. Hand finding its way to the cross hanging around your neck. They noticed immediately. 

“Not gonna lie. The whole church girl thing is pretty fuckin’ hot right now,” Ray said, flicking the tooth pick to the other side of his mouth, foot tapping to the beat of the music.

Trevor smirked down at you. Gaze lingering by your naked legs and messily buttoned up shirt. “Can’t argue with that. Never been into virgins, but god damn you make it look good.”

“Who said I was a virgin?” You tried… you did. But you failed.

Ray chuckled, throwing away the tooth pick. “No one. But the fact that you just said that sentence. The odds of you not being one are pretty low.”

Trevor stole his gaze away from your neck to look for Ray. Their eyes seeming to have a conversation, your heart pounding and body sweltering in a heat you never knew possible. Not just by sight.

“You know little church girl,” Trevor began, turning on the shower. For a second time. “I don’t like tooting my own horn, but this here.” He grasped it in his hand for a moment and you jolted. “This is a gift from God. And being the ever-faithful servant you are. I think you should practise what you preach.”

You don’t know how it happened, or how it happened so fast.

But your clothes were being peeled off all over again. Ray was undoing his belt and jeans. And Trevor was reclining into the metal of the shower, savouring your body with his eyes.

Music and running water were white noise as you made your way to them. 

You met lips with Ray first, awkward on your part, but guided well by the counselor. Trevor stood close behind you, brushing your now wet hair from your face and Rays. His gift from God touching your backside.

Your hands smoothed over Rays chest. Soft yet strong, he opened your mouth with his tongue. He tasted like beer and weed. That’s what it had to be. It was intoxicating.

You pressed your body into Ray, abandoning Trevor. Ray’s hand grasping and digging his finger into your thigh, pulling it up to his hip. You let go of the kiss, leaning your head back to moan out loud, only to be enveloped by Trevor’s lips, his large hand wrapped around your neck, around the necklace your grandfather had gifted to you for a birthday one year.

Ray worked his tongue on your breasts, slowly descending to your ribs, to your naval, then to your hips. Then lower.

You jolted back at the feeling of his mouth on your inner thighs, backside colliding with Trevor’s groin. He groaned into your mouth, smiling. 

“You’re so wet,” Ray whispered in-between your legs.

“Damn fuckin’ right she is,” Trevor huffed, hands guiding your hips and backside into meeting with his groin. Grinding hard. You arched your back, giving Trevor more access, and giving yourself the angle to watch Ray licking you, up and down. His tongue flat and wide, pressing into it. Into your most sensitive part, brown eyes watching you the whole time. You lost balance, placing your palms on Ray’s shoulders for good grip. 

He was beautiful…

“Any requests from the young lady? We want your first time to be perfect,” Trevor whispered into your ear.

Ray released his tongue from you, rising to meet your height, hand gently caressing your face.

You thought back to that stupid novella, and suddenly remembered the dreams you had after reading some of the filth within it. No keys or Mr Jingles. No Margaret or mother chanting to you how sinful it was to make love before marriage. Let alone with two people.

“I wanna be fucked hard…” 

They both laughed. Ray’s eyes meeting with Trevor behind you, whose chest and the small hairs on it pressed into your back. “How do you wanna do this champ?”

“You’ve got the bigger meat, man. I’d feel insecure. I’d rather watch. Besides…We have time for more than one round.” He smirked, finger pulling down on your bottom lip.

“Alrighty then church girl. You ready to be fucked hard?” 

Neither of them asked. Yet you crawled to your hands and knees. 

“Holy fuck… You’re kinky as hell.”

You smiled, watching Ray recline into the wall and take hold of his cock. “You gonna fuck me or what?” You looked back towards Trevor, speechless more or less.

You had to take some levities. You had no idea what was sexy or what wasn’t. All you had was that erotica your mother probably read every night. Hoping to be in the very position you were in now.

“You better believe it baby," he promised.


End file.
